Chapter 1

. . .

It had been nearly eight months since the war had ended, and six months since the trials. Draco had dreaded that day because a person was missing that should had been there, and just wasn't.

His mother.

It wasn't the shame of his father or being disgraced by the wizarding world that killed her, Draco had realized the day it had happened; it had been the darkness that had been creeping up on her for so many years and his father being sent to Azkaban had been the final nail in her coffin.

Draco shook his thoughts away from his mother. It always hurt to think about her now. He had done two months in Azkaban for aiding the Death Eaters, but he knew it would have been a lot longer had Harry Potter not tried to help him.

In that time in Azkaban, however, they had Oblivated him. They wanted him to forget about how he had helped the wrong side and instead planted real memories instead of fake of how many people had died because of him. They implanted screams of terror and cries so that Draco would, or could, ever forget the innocent lives. Something else had gone wrong though, either they overextended the spell or were rushing through it because now Draco suffered bouts of memory loss.

There were times he would simply forget who he was, his name, his past life, the War, other people, and the memory loss sent him into panic attacks half the time. Other times he knew exactly who he was and what he had done, and then the nightmares plagued him, so it was easier not to sleep.

It was raining and Draco Malfoy was cold and wet, and he couldn't remember the last time he ate or slept. He was so tired, and he kept his hood up as he trudged into the pub in Hogsmeade and sat down on a stool.

He kept his head down as he gruffly ordered a firewhiskey. He needed something to help stop the cries in his head; usually alcohol did the trick.

Draco had almost finished his drink when he heard the sound of a familiar voice in the pub.

"Two whiskeys, please."

Draco knew that voice anywhere, even with memory gaps. Harry fucking Potter, of course it was, though. He kept his head low, his hands trembling as he tried to hold his glass still. He made sure his Mark was covered.

"How goes the Death Eater hunting, Mr. Potter?"

A beat of silence before he saw Harry slowly look up at the bartender out of the corner of his eye. "I wouldn't know. I quit being an Auror months ago."

There was no other questions from the bartender; he just nodded in acknowledgement and began to serve someone else. Draco cringed as he tried to get comfortable on the bar stool, feeling his bruises twinge with pain.

" 'Scuse me, mister," a gruff voice suddenly spoke, near Draco. "I ain't ever seen you in 'ere. My god, are you… you look an awful like that Malfoy son -"

"He's not," Harry's voice suddenly interrupted the man. "He's my friend. Now, please let us drink our drinks in peace now, yeah?"

Draco watched as the man eyed him suspiciously before walking away again. He tensed, unable to relax. Never able to relax anymore. Harry had helped him. He knew who he was.

"You look like you've seen better days," Harry whispered as he sipped his whiskey.

Draco turned to look at him, a part of his hood still blocking his face, but he could see Harry didn't look so perfect anymore; there was a thin white scar that curved down his cheek to from under his eye to his jaw.

"I could say the same about you too," Draco tiredly drawled, sighing softly as he finished his whiskey.

The two men sat in a silence for a long time, Harry finishing his drink and then motioned for Draco to follow him out. The blonde was hesitant to do so at first but figured maybe this was for the best; maybe he could stop walking on this earth like a skeleton and finally be where he truly belonged, in the earth.

The thought of his own death had crossed his mind many times; he couldn't deny it. He had so much guilt inside of him that he felt like he might burst with it. He felt like screaming, like the voices he was cursed to hear now.

He followed Harry out and started feeling anxious when he realized he had led Draco into an alleyway between two buildings.

"Are you going to kill me now, Potter?" Draco asked softly, no sign of hatred or contempt in his voice.

"No," Harry shook his head. "You heard me in there, I don't hunt Death Eaters anymore. You're no exception, Malfoy."

Draco nodded, wanting to feel relief, but instead was met only with disappointment. He held his sleeves over his hands awkwardly, using his one arm to hug his body, trying to hold himself together.

He suddenly saw worry touch Harry's eyes. "Are… are you hurt?"

Draco nodded. "It's nothing you should worry about. I deserved what I got."

Harry looked around and seeing that the street was becoming busier, he turned back to Draco. "I have a flat not far from here. Come back home with me. I'll take a look at it."

"Still the hero, after all our years together," Draco half whispered.

"I guess it's a habit I find difficult to break," the other man shrugged, eyeing the ex-Slytherin's body carefully to see if he was hurt anywhere else but he couldn't tell. "So… will you?"

Draco sighed heavily, looking around in the dark, almost paranoid. He looked back at Harry and searched his face before he shook his head finally in answer.

"Why not?"

He looked conflicted, like he wanted to say something other than what he was about to say, which in true Malfoy fashion, would not be very nice, and Harry wasn't disappointed.

"Because I just can't! You don't get to have answers anymore, Potter. That's your problem; you were spoiled in school with them… you had all the bloody answers to everything well, guess what? School's over, the war's over, and you don't get to have answers anymore," Draco declared, nearly spitting with an anger that Harry couldn't understand completely.

It was evident that Draco was talking about more than just some answers, but Harry had put himself out there to help Draco and was returned with ungratefulness. He just felt eager to rid himself of Draco now.

"Fine, whatever, Malfoy. Before I leave you to do whatever you're going to do next, a few words… I don't have all the answers, I never did! I've always been left with more questions, and I still am! School may be over, but the true war is not, and not you nor anyone else is going to be able to convince me otherwise."

Harry turned around and walked away from Draco, leaving him standing alone in the alleyway to head back to his own flat.

The blonde ran his hand through his hair before spitting on the ground where Harry had been and took a last look around before he started down the street, avoiding the streetlamps. His problem since the war had ended was that he had let himself be seen by too many people, mostly Death Eaters who blamed Draco for their loss, or blamed him for something else that he never knew about.

He held himself together with one arm still as he walked before he started towards the abandoned flat he had been staying at. It had been on the verge of collapse, windows broken, and filled with many unsavory folk, but it was still a roof over his head, and that's what he needed the most right now. Despite wanting to go back to the Manor for a few sentimental belongings, he refrained. He knew it was too dangerous for him to go back there, so he went from shitty house to shitty house, trying to stay out of the elements and away from rogue Death Eaters that wanted to kill him.

He crept into one of the empty rooms and closed and locked the door behind him, walking over to the dirty comforter on the floor and lay down, using his good arm as a pillow before he moved his legs close to his body to keep as much warmth as he could, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

….. .. …

Draco woke up to the sound of yelling sometime in the middle of the night, but he wasn't sure exactly what time it was; the sun wasn't yet up so it had to be late.

He heard screams and sick laughter and then his door was kicked open, the weak lock on it instantly shattering to the floor. He stood up as quickly as his ribs would allow him and took a step back, watching as a familiar face started to walk towards him.

"Draco Malfoy," he greeted in satisfaction. "It's been too long, don't you think?"

He didn't think he was sure of that. "Actually, I don't think it's been long enough, Blaise. What brings you here?"

The other man looked at him darkly, his wand in his hand. Draco eyed the wand cautiously, wondering if this was the end of the line for him. He felt nauseous at the thought that he almost welcomed it, if it was.

"I'm here for you, actually. There's a new Death Eater in charge now, Draco, and you've been summoned. Why don't you come and join us?"

His blood turned to ice in his veins now, his instincts suddenly screaming at him to run, as fast as he could away from Zabini. He swallowed hard, trying to plant his feet firmly in place on the floor, his heart racing frantically.

"I'm not sure if I want to join you, Blaise," Draco answered coolly. "I think I'd prefer to just be on my own for now."

Blaise smirked now and took a step towards his ex-friend. "It's rather dangerous to be a Death Eater and alone these days. It's safer to be in a group. We can protect each other from outside threats."

Draco tongued his lip that had been cut last week when he had been jumped and beaten to a pulp. He was still healing, and it didn't go over his head that Blaise was threatening him rather than inviting him. Being along was dangerous, and both of them knew it, but it was rogue Death Eaters like Blaise that were the danger.

"I'm good where I am," Draco stated firmly. "As far as I can see, you're the only outside threat."

Blaise chuckled coldly now before he shook his head, taking another step towards Draco. This made the other man instinctively take a step towards the door. "Ah ah ah," he said warningly, still smirking, "Don't make this harder for you than it already is."

He then ran at Draco, slamming him against the wall hard, and punched him, once… twice… three times.

Damn it. The cut on his lip had opened back up again, and now he felt warm blood making trails out of his nostrils and down to his lips as pain shot through his nose. He coughed as he tasted the blood in his throat before he spit it out at Blaise.

"You fucking prick!" The other man cursed before Draco made a dash for the door, causing Blaise to lift his wand up and then he turned around to face the hallway.

"Imperio!" yelled Blaise as a shot of yellow light narrowly missed Draco's legs.

He ran, and then he ran some more, scrambling down the stairs as he made it outside in the cold again. The streetlights were dimmed even more than before, and he suspected that had been Blaise's doing. He ran in between buildings, through alleyways, over fences and gates until he had to lean up against the back of a brick wall to catch his breath, his lungs burning red hot with panic and pain.

He could still hear footsteps near him, and then he heard Blaise's voice.

"Draco… don't be thick. You can't hide forever! We'll find you eventually, and when we do, we're going to burn down your world, and everyone in it…"

Draco closed his eyes, pressing himself harder against the building. He heard his heartbeat in his ears and didn't dare move until he heard the footsteps start off in another direction. He took this opportunity to hurry down the alleyway, jumping over another gate before he started to look for another place to hide.

He looked around and saw a light in one of the windows in a flat nearby; he might be safe there. Draco hurried over to the house and tried the knob but found out it was locked.

"Shit…" he sighed before he decided to try his luck. Death Eaters probably wouldn't have a light in their windows. They did their best to keep a low profile if they could help it. Draco knocked on the door quickly, but as quietly as he could.

He glanced around again just as the door opened and shock swallowed him whole. His eyes widened almost pleadingly as he found himself staring into Harry's eyes.

"H-Help me…" he nearly whimpered.